


blinking lights and dial tones

by dazedlight (opinionoutpost)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Again sort of, Alternate Universe - No Band, Cake, Dirty Talk, Fluff, M/M, Phone Sex, artist!calum, sort of??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4443962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opinionoutpost/pseuds/dazedlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke can think of a million other things he'd rather be doing than interpreting phone sex for a deaf guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	blinking lights and dial tones

**Author's Note:**

> so there's this kind of neat movie called The Little Death that's all about different sexual kinks. there's a particular bit towards the very end of the movie that i've loved since i first saw a preview of it on tumblr many moons ago, where a woman who works for a service that helps hearing-impaired individuals make phone calls via video chat and sign language, calls a sex line for a guy and then has to sign all the explicit things the other woman is saying and just - it's simultaneously the most hilarious and heart-warming thing and i love it. so naturally i have to be the trash queen and make it about 5sos.

Luke honestly didn't think the sign language thing would come in handy, let alone that it would get him a job. He's thankful his mom had pushed him to learn it in school, not that anyone could tell with all the complaining he did. Without it, he'd probably still be living at home and in heaps of debt, so, really, he should let her know that she was right, and that it is an impressive skill to put on his resume, despite his whining. 

Not that this is the most amazing job, translating phone calls for hearing-impaired people, but the hours are flexible, and the company pays well over minimum wage. His fridge has been stocked with actual, non-frozen produce for the past two months, and he paid his tuition almost a full week before the deadline. He's, like, a real adult.

He's finishing up some notes for a lecture on Monday when the video chat window pops up on his screen, a familiar trill trickling out of his headset. He slips the headphones on and accepts the call, waving hello before introducing himself and asking what number he should dial. He finishes it off with a smile, resting his hands in his lap while he waits for a response. 

The guy takes one look at him and ends the call.

Okay.

He goes back to his textbook, jotting reminders in the margins and highlighting things he think will be important. He slips his headset down off his ears to hang off his neck. The call center is quiet, the only sounds the half-spoken words of the interpreters as Luke scribbles away, glancing up to check the screen every couple minutes to make sure he hasn't missed anything. 

After a good fifteen minutes, another chat window pops up, and he pushes the notes aside, sliding the headset back on and accepting the call. It's the same guy, looking a little sheepish. Luke pretends to not recognize him, repeating his introduction and asking who he should call. The guy signs a number out for him and, when Luke asks for the contact name, he just shrugs, flushing slightly and running a hand through his dark hair. The motion reveals a handful of tattoos on his forearm, all black and white and bold. 

He dials the number, making the gesture for calling while he waits for the line to connect. He asks the guy's name, not that he's really supposed to, but he finds it makes the whole process go a little smoother if he can identify everyone involved by name.

“Calum,” the guy signs, and Luke smiles, nods.

The line connects and a pleasant woman's voice echos down the line.

“You've called Fine Fuck. Which one of our sluts do you want?”

The smile drops off his face. “Sorry?” he says, and the woman repeats herself, voice more curt this time.

He clears his throat. “Could I put you on hold for a second?”

“Sure.”

“I think it's a wrong number,” he signs to Calum, who's taken to twirling a pen while he waits. “It's an adult line,” he continues. “For,” he pauses, ears heating up. “For adults.”

Calum raises and eyebrow. “I'm an adult,” he signs.

He bites back a laugh. “I know, but it's for phone sex, I think.”

Calum gives him two thumbs up.

And he's a little stunned. “Oh.” He doesn't sign it, but he's sure the look on his face says enough.

“Hello?” the woman on the other line interrupts. “Who do you want to talk to?”

“Sorry,” he says, snapping to. “Uh, my name is Luke, and I'm calling from Video Relay–”

“Honey, I really don't care,” the woman cuts him off. “Just tell me who you want to talk to.”

He sighs, then signs the question to Calum.

“What are the options?” he asks, and Luke relays the question to the woman on the phone.

“We've got straight sex, gay sex, twinks, submissives, dominates, threesomes, deep-throating, swingers, double penetration, triple penetration...” The list keeps coming, Luke's eyes growing larger as the descriptions become more graphic. 

“...we've got people for all your needs,” the woman concludes.

He stares, a bit dazed, at Calum before blinking, once, twice, and informing him they have either girls or guys.

Calum raises his eyebrows. “That's it?”

“That's it.”

He frowns a bit, disappointed, Luke guesses. “A guy, then.”

“A guy, please,” he tells the woman.

“Any physical specifications?”

He asks Calum.

“Blonde, nice smile, cute dimples,” he signs and winks at Luke. He ducks his head, telling the woman that anyone will do while Calum spins his chair back and forth with a smirk on his lips.

“Connecting you now.”

The phone rings twice before a raspy voice answers. “Hi, this is Dylan. Who's this?”

“Hi, this is Luke calling–”

“You sound really cute, Luke. I don't normally do guys, but I'm so turned on, I'll make an exception for you.”

He feels himself flush again, rolling his eyes upward in a silent prayer. “Uh, no, sorry, I'm – I actually work for Video Relay. I have a caller on the line who uses sign language, and I'll be interpreting the call for both of you tonight.”

“What?” The voice is suddenly higher, less gravely.

“Um.” He fiddles with his papers and pens, straightening them so they're all parallel. “If you talk to me, I'll sign to the caller what you're saying, and he'll sign back to me so I can tell you what he's saying.”

“He's deaf?”

“Yes.”

“So he can't hear me?”

He rolls his eyes. “No, he can't hear anything. He's hearing-impaired.”

There's a long, drawn out sigh of relief. “Thank God. That low raspy voice shreds my vocal chords. You cool if I just talk like this?”

“Yeah, that's fine.”

“Great. So can he see me?”

Jesus Christ. “No, you're on a regular phone. The only person he can see is me.”

“Right, gotcha. What does he look like?”

He bites his lip ring into his mouth. “Cute.”

“Specifics, man. Hair colour, eye colour, physique, that whole thing?”

“Oh, right.” He adjusts his pens again. “Dark hair. Kind of shaggy. Brown eyes. Um. Fit. Like, he goes to the gym often, I guess. Tattoos.”

“Shit,” the guy sighs. “Tattoos are awesome.”

“Yeah.”

“What's his name?”

“Calum.”

“Right.” The guy pauses to inhale deeply. When he speaks again, there's a hint of grit back to his voice. “What are you doing up so late, Calum?”

Luke signs as fast as he can.

Calum sits forward in his chair. “Just finishing some work. You?”

“I was waiting for you to call.”

“What are you wearing?” Calum asks, and Luke tries not to laugh.

“Can't be more creative than that?” he signs, and Calum flips him off, smiling.

“Nothing. I've been playing with myself all night, hoping you'd call and help me out. Do you want to do that, Calum? You want to help me come?”

Some spit gets caught in his throat and he chokes, coughing.

“I'm not saying that.”

“Dude, you're going to have to say a lot kinkier shit than that tonight.”

“Oh. Fuck.” He settles himself, Calum watching him carefully.

“You okay?” he asks, and Luke nods before slowly signing out what the caller told him. It makes Calum purse his lips, shift his position in his seat.

“Maybe.”

Luke laughs this time, his coworkers glancing up from their own conversations to stare. He quiets down in a hurry, still smiling though.

“He says maybe.”

“A cheeky fucker. Ask him if he's hard.”

Luke flicks his eyes down to his lap, sees the outline of his cock in his sweatpants, asks anyway.

Calum smirks again, reaches down and adjusts himself, holding Luke's gaze. He swallows thickly.

“He is.”

“You want to put that thick, hard cock in my mouth?”

Christ. He runs a hand through his hair. “Can we just assume he's going to say yes?”

“Did he?”

“I don't think he's going to say no.”

“Just fucking ask him.”

Luke does, and, to no one's surprise, he says yes.

“You taste so good, babe,” the guy purrs, making Luke bury his face in his hands. He translates with his eyes fixed to left of Calum's, pointedly staring at a poster in the background. When he chances a glance at him, he looks amused, chewing on his bottom lip.

“What do you want me to do now, love?” Dylan asks. Luke translates.

“Keep sucking me off,” Calum requests, and Luke is this close to pleading with him, begging him to pretend to come so he can end this call and pitch himself off the roof.

“He says keep going.”

The guy huffs. “Alright. Your big fucking dick feels so good in my mouth,” he moans out, and Luke dies a little inside as he mimes the actions for Calum. He catches one of his coworkers watching him from his desk, eyebrows raised and hand covering his mouth while Luke pretends to suck a dick. He flips him off once he's done, and he disappears behind his cubicle once more, snickering.

“Now what do you want to do, big boy?”

Calum almost laughs. “Big boy?” he repeats. 

Luke shrugs. “That's what he said.”

“Can I fuck his ass?”

“Oh, my God,” he says out loud, slinking down in his chair when the people in the office all look at him. 

“Hello?” Dylan chimes. “What's going on?”

“Sorry,” Luke goes, clearing his throat once more. “He – he wants to know if he can have anal sex. With you.”

“Who else?” he laughs. “Right, yeah, tell him... tell him yeah, I want his huge cock filling me up.”

He does and watches Calum slip a hand into the pocket of his sweatpants and grip his dick, massaging it lightly.

“I can see that,” he signs, pointing to where his hand has disappeared.

The hand reappears to sign, “Enjoying the show?”

“No,” he deadpans, breaking when Calum looks genuinely concerned. They both laugh, and he notices the fine lines that appear by Calum's eyes. They're cute.

“What do you want to do next?” he asks. 

Calum shrugs. “Just keep fucking, I guess.”

He relays this to Dylan, who starts moaning and praising Calum's imaginary dick, which Luke relays back to Calum in excruciating detail, moaning quietly himself to get the facial expressions right. Calum watches everything with apt attention, eyes unwavering, and when Dylan finally goes quiet on the other line, panting slightly and asking for further instruction, he keeps his gaze on Luke, a small smile on his lips.

“What next, babe?” he signs again when Calum doesn't respond.

“Hang up.”

Luke startles. “Are you sure?”

Calum nods.

“He wants to hang up,” he tells Dylan.

“What? Did he come?”

He watches Calum's face. “No, I don't think so.” He signs, “You sure?” again. He still nods.

“He's supposed to come.”

“I think he's done.”

“Done as in he came? I don't think I get paid if he doesn't–” Luke hangs up.

“All done,” he says. Calum smiles. 

“Do you have another call?” he asks.

“No.”

“Do you want to keep talking?” He looks bashful, flicking his eyes to the floor, then peeking up at him.

“Yes.”

He beams, rolls his hair closer to the webcam. “Thank you,” he says.

“Thank _you_ ,” he signs back quickly. “This was one of the weirdest calls I've done.”

He laughs at that, a breathy, hiccup-y thing that's strangely endearing.

“What are you doing up so late?” he asks.

“Told you,” Calum signs. “Doing work.”

“What do you do?”

“Graphic novelist,” he responds, rolling out of frame for a second before reappearing with a piece of paper, dark ink and empty speech bubbles filling the page. Luke gestures for him to bring the drawings closer to the camera so he can get a better look, examining them carefully.

“You drew these?” he says once Calum's tucked the paper away.

“Yeah.”

“I don't believe you.”

He raises an eyebrow at him. “Is that a challenge?” Luke laughs and waits expectantly as Calum holds up his fist with his thumb tucked under, the other hand fumbling behind him. He pulls out a sketch pad and a pencil, still showing him his fist. He flips to a clean page, brushes off the invisible dust and double-checks that Luke is still there, still engaged. He jerks his fist a little urgently – _keep waiting_ – and Luke bobs his head to show he understands. He smiles fleetingly at him before letting his arm drop, the other one sketching, the notebook out of frame so Luke can't see anything. He sits back and listens to the scratch of Calum's pencil against the paper, wanting to let his eyes slip shut, but keeping them on Calum instead, tracking the sporadic spirals of hair twisting up from his part. 

A short while later, Calum straightens, sweeping aside some eraser shavings. He flips the book around so Luke can look at it, scooting forward to bring the image as close to the camera as he can manage. It's... him. And it's incredible. There's something in the eyes, he thinks, something that makes them look alive even though it's just graphite on paper. 

“Wow,” he breathes and has to tuck his fingers into his palm to keep from reaching out, wanting to touch. “I can't believe you'd draw me.” Then he signs, “It's amazing” when he remembers who he's talking to.

Calum smiles and sets the book down “You're fun to draw,” he replies.

“Really?”

“Yes. Lots of character in your face. It's expressive.”

It's an odd compliment but Luke finds himself pleasantly flustered anyway. “Thanks.”

Calum shrugs. “Just the truth.”

“You have an expressive face, too,” he says, or attempts to, not sure if he's using the right gestures for the word 'expressive.' He tries to mimic Calum's motions, but he's much faster than Luke. When Calum furrows his eyebrows, he flounders for a moment before grinning big, pointing to his smile, then brushing his fingertips to the corner of his eyes. 

“Your eyes,” he tries. “They...” He struggles to think of the motions for 'crinkle.'

Calum holds up his fist, then taps two fingers to his lips before gesturing to his mouth in a circular motion. “I can lipread.”

“Oh.” He laughs, embarrassed. “Your eyes crinkle when you smile,” he says out loud, signing what he can. “It's cute.”

Calum smiles. “You told the phone sex guy I was cute.”

His cheeks colour instantly as he shakes his head. “No, I didn't.”

Calum taps his lips again, still smirking. “Remember?” he signs.

He bites his lip before cradling his head in his hands, groaning. Calum's laugh fills his ears again, and he peeks up at that, enjoying his crinkly eyes and wide smile, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. Luke finds himself smiling fondly, still staring once Calum settles. They just look at each other for a moment before Calum glances down and picks up the drawing again.

“Do you want it?” he asks.

“Can I?”

Calum nods. 

“Do you...” he starts out loud before lowering his voice, signing as quickly as he can, as if his hands could whisper, “do you want to meet for coffee somewhere?”

Calum signs too fast for him to read, but he takes his vigorous nodding as a yes. Calum slows enough that Luke makes out an address, scribbling it down on the corner of his homework.

“Tomorrow?” he signs. “Noon?”

“Yes.”

A pause. He glances at the clock. It's late.

“I should go.”

He starts to sign something but stops before the sentence is completed. “Okay.”

“But tomorrow,” he says aloud, then signs, “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes. Tomorrow.”

He moves the cursor to end the call, soaking up one last look before he clicks it, the screen blacking out before his wallpaper pops up. An emptiness blankets his desk without Calum filling his screen and it's... unsettling. It's unsettling in the worst way.

* * *

Calum feels close to puking as he waits in the cafe, one hand curled around his to-go cup while the other clutches at the drawing, wrinkling the corner. He keeps unfolding it and smoothing the edge where his sweaty palm is crushing it, but it's not helping and it's all he can focus on.

He checks his phone for the third time in five minutes, frustrated to see time isn't going any faster. He's early, he keeps reminding himself. He's not being stood up; he's just way too wound up and way too early.

Still, he pushes out a huge gust of breath when he spots a blonde tuft of hair by the door and visibly relaxes when the tuft turns and he gets to see the face because it's the face that matches the drawing, although not exactly, he's noticing now. He didn't quite get the nose right.

Luke recognizes him after a moment of scanning the cafe and ambles over, sliding into the chair across from him with ease.

“Hi,” he says and waves and Calum does the latter.

“How are you?” He's still signing, lips barely moving but Calum watches them anyway. They're very pink; he thinks he has the perfect shade to match them at home.

“Good,” Calum signs before unfolding the picture for the umpteenth time and slipping it across the table. “For you.”

Luke picks up the drawing gently, like he's scared he'll break it if he holds it too tight. He has big hands, soft, with thick fingers. He thinks idly that they'd look meaty on someone else, but, on Luke, they look proportionate. He's much larger than he'd thought he'd be. On screen he'd looked small, hunched in. Calum wonders if he looks different too.

“Thank you,” he says aloud before placing the drawing back on the table and signing his reply clumsily. 

“You don't have to sign,” he tells him, then taps his lips.

“Isn't sign language easier for you to understand?”

He shrugs. “They're equal. Speaking is easier for you.” 

Luke pauses, hands hovering close to his chest. “Do you speak?” he asks after a moment, gesturing carefully.

“Yeah. I don't like to.”

“Why?”

“I don't like the way I sound.”

“You can hear yourself?” Luke asks, surprised.

He nods. “A little. I'm only partially deaf. I have hearing aids, but I don't wear them. They give me a headache.”

“I'd like to hear your voice.” Luke speaks this part, eyes downcast. “One day, anyway.”

Calum smiles and inches his hand closer to his. Luke notices and moves his hand closer as well, until their fingertips touch. Calum smiles wider and lifts his hand to rest on top of Luke's. Luke flips his hand palm up so they can hold hands properly. It makes Calum's stomach flip embarrassingly.

“Hi,” he says, voice a little hoarse. He can feel the scratch of his vocal chords, stiff from disuse. Luke's head shoots up and he beams, practically glowing.

“Hi,” he says back, and Calum makes a note to wear his hearing aids the next time they're together. He wants to hear his voice, too, but mostly wants to hear Luke's and what their voices sound like together. He can't imagine it being anything other than melodic. 

“Hi,” he says again, trying it out, and Luke laughs, though barely, just a slight raise of his shoulders and a smile. 

“Hi.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can let me know what you thought in a comment or on tumblr, where you can find me [@ peachflush!](http://peachflush.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> ~~also rip the ending is so bad lmao~~


End file.
